


Mouth Full of White Lies

by onefootonego (startingXI)



Category: Power Rangers (2017)
Genre: F/F, TW: Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 15:22:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11233770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startingXI/pseuds/onefootonego
Summary: “you hurt yourself.” trini says“we fight putties every day of course i hurt myself.”“that’s not what i mean.” trini says, leaving out theand you know it. what she does instead, is reach for kim’s clenched fist. she can’t not do it any more, she can’t leave kim to stand there drowning in whatever she can’t escape.





	Mouth Full of White Lies

the first time trini notices, she doesn’t connect the dots.

the corner of the ship she and kim have claimed as their own is dark, and they’re both beaten and bruised from the evening’s training. it’s a half second, nothing more really, just the dim light catching across some old scars on kims hips. replaying the moment over later, trini’s not sure she saw anything at all. except, perhaps,

a flash of panic in kims eyes as she caught trini’s line of sight, pulling up her sweatpants in the same motion. at the time trini had written it off as some sort of trini-being-gay-related-discomfort,

when trini realizes the reality of it all she wishes it were only that.

*

the second time trini notices, kim is drunk.

trini is riding a pleasant buzz and is wishing that kim wasn’t so damn squirmy “i’m not taking off your pants.” trini whispers, looking at kim, who’s sitting at the edge of her bed “but you should change.”

“i can’t.”

trini raises an eyebrow “you can’t?”

“too tight.” kim collapses back on the bed, bringing her legs up and poking at trini’s thigh with her toes “help me trini.” she demands “you’re supposed to help me. 

trini rolls her eyes “fine. but then you’re drinking that cup of water.”

kim seems to ponder for a moment and then “deal.” she holds out her hand.

trini really should have known better than to take it, this is kim - a kim who is drunk and giggling and pulling trini down on top of her as soon as trini takes her hand 

“kim,” trini splutters, one hand still caught with kims, the other planted on the bed, holding trini up “come on, this isn’t the deal.”

something flickers in kims eyes and her hand relaxes, the smile drops “okay.”

trinis gut twists as she stands, trying to catch the uprising of darkness in kims eyes, it’s as if kims not entirely here any more 

“kim,” trini says slowly, backing up “you with me?”

it takes kim long seconds to reply, long seconds where trini is left standing, watching kim close her eyes and take deep breaths - suddenly far more sober when she notices trini is still standing here. there are shadows in kims eyes as she sits up, bringing her elbows to her knees and holding her head in her hands 

“i’m going to be sick.” she mumbles, but makes no attempt to stand, or move in anyway towards the bathroom.

“you got a bucket somewhere?” trini asks, looking around for anything, anything to grab in case kim makes good on her promise.

“not like that.” kim says, reaching back blindly with an arm.

“then like how?” trini follows what she’s grasping for, pajamas in a heap on top of a pillow “here,” trini says, grabbing them and handing them to kim “you got it?”

kim looks up from where she’d been eyeing the floor “i’m not eight.”

“two minutes ago you said your pants were too tight to get off.”

“they are.”

trini sighs “do you want my help getting them off?”

“will you make me drink water after?” 

“yes.”

“why?”

“because it’s what friends do.”

there’s a terribly long pause and then kim says “oh.” all soft and sad and trini’s angry at anyone who’s ever called them self a friend of kim.

anyone who isn’t a power ranger that is.

kim lays out on the bed, biting her lip and fumbling with the button of her skinny jeans, she looks up at trini, who’s eyes soften and she steps forward, undoing the button - careful hands moving to the beltloops, trying to gain purchase to help kim squirm out of them. 

and that’s when trini sees them.

sees them for real.

a row of too-neat scars. some old, some new, all deep 

but then kim is about to squirm herself right off the bed and trini is catching her - attention dragged from the scars so stark on dip of kims hip.

 only later, when trini has climbed out of kims window - leaving a bottle of water and some advil on the bedside - does she have time to think about what she saw

and what it means 

*

trini doesn’t know what to do

on the one hand, she can’t forget what she saw.

on the other, she doesn’t know how to bring it up.

so she hits google. on her phone. in the middle of the night. clearing her browser history of

_‘help i think my friend is cutting’_

there are lots of calls to tell parents or trusted adults, but trini can’t help but think about that as the wrong thing to do. so she’s left looking at websites talking about interventions and in the end, pushing three am, trini closes her phone and looks up at the ceiling.

she remembers waking up and seeing rita right

there 

remembers the way her heart stopped.

her entire body froze.

trini drags her thoughts back to kim.

she doesn’t know what to do, and settles into an uneasy sleep with no plan.

 *

a plan comes soon enough. 

or,

kim sees trini with tears in her eyes and a crumpled poster in her hands and trini burns. she catches a glimpse of the poster when kim throws it viciously into the trash - the words 

_die ugly bitch_  

visible.

kim spends all day pretending to be okay. smiling and laughing at all the right times. trini notices more than she used to - which is saying something. notices the shadows in kims eyes, the ones that really come out at training, when kim single handed smashes four putties on her own.

when it’s 

“woah kim” from jason.

and

“hardcore.” from zack.

and billy going “even trini can’t do that.” 

which is mostly true.

but then it’s after and trini is inviting herself over to kims place and kim is quiet and leaves the radio untouched as they drive to her place,

and trini’s heart is pounding.

but she’s got to do this, 

has to say something.

so she does. 

*

‘what, is this some sort of interrogation? it doesn’t seem quite your style.’ trini braces herself because this level of hostility is expected, especially when trini starts a conversation with ‘i know about the box cutter’

‘kim.’ trini tries, aiming for calming and, she thinks, falling short.

kim seems to deflate, and says softly _don’t_ looking away and shifting on her feet, all signs that she wants to be anywhere but in her bedroom with trini standing in front of her.

‘don’t what?’ trini asks, again aiming for calming and maybe finding herself a little bit closer to something that could ease the tension from kim’s spine.

‘don’t say my name like that.’ kim pleads, refusing to look at trini, her hand curling around itself, gripping at something, gripping at nothing. trini has to fight instincts not to reach out and take kim’s hand, her own jammed in the pockets of her jacket.

‘like what?’

‘like you feel bad for me.’

what trini says next isn’t technically true, but it’s not technically a lie and kim has a tinge of desperation in her voice and a shadow in her eyes that makes trini think kim might run ‘i don’t feel bad for you.’

‘so what’s the look on your face?’ kim asks, voice betraying how utterly unconvinced she is that the look on trini’s face could be anything but pity.

and god, trini had googled how to bring something like this up, she’d looked through weird, fluffy webpages and clicked away from official looking school memos on the subject. sure, she thought they’d had some decent advice, but now, with kim standing in front of her? looking like that?

trini can’t do subtle, not - not about this. not when the thought of kim hurting herself makes trini’s chest ache. so, she takes a breath, trini calms herself, pulls her hands out of her coat pockets and lets them hang by her sides, palms open - a gesture of surrender and says as gently, gently as she can

“you hurt yourself.” trini says 

“we fight putties every day of course i hurt myself.” 

“that’s not what i mean.” trini says, leaving out the and you know it. what she does instead, is reach for kim’s clenched fist. she can’t not do it any more, she can’t leave kim to stand there drowning in whatever she can’t escape. 

kim’s hand is the only part of her that relaxes when trini touches her.

“trini-” kim starts, and there’s a combination of emotions in her voice that trini’s never heard before - pain, desperation, fear “i can’t.” 

trini swallows “you don’t have to.” she says steadily “just,” she pauses, all of the websites spoke about contacting an adult, telling a counselor - but right, sure, mhm, no. kim would never forgive trini if she did that. so instead trini says “just trust me? can you do that?”

kim swallows, unable to speak, so resorts to a sort of shallow nodding instead. trini squeezes her hand and waits until kim squeezes it back. it’s weak, revealing nothing of the force that could - and does quite regularly - shatter nokia phones. but it’s something and trini can take that.

“under the bed.” kim says finally, looking over trini’s head and out the window “in the box with my phones.”

the one labeled ‘wrecked’ and when trini takes kim’s admittance as permission to retrieve the box, she has to smile. it’s small and short lived, but kim breaking phones is a habit she can’t quite seem to shake and seeing the dozen or so devices kim’s gone through since they slapped rita repulsa into space is of small comfort. but along the side, blending with the greys and blacks of the phone, is a plain, metallic box cutter. dollar ninety nine at the hardware store.

trini reaches for it, feels kim stiffen and trini retracts her hand, looking in kim’s direction “do it.” kim says. 

trini removes the box cutter and slips it into her boot. replacing the lid, she one handed gets the box to the floor and then nudges it under the bed again with a foot.

“there’s another one.” kim says, again, looking away from trini, speaking towards the wall “in the bottom drawer.”

“can i take it?” trini asks, gently, gently.

kim nods, unfurling her hand from trini’s “yeah.”

trini recognizes tears in her voice and moves slowly, but quickly. she pockets the box cutters in her boot and sits back down on the bed. she doesn’t reach for kims hand, not until kim splays hers out on her thigh and swallows hard.

so trini takes it.

and for a while they don’t speak. for a while they just sit there, listening to the sounds of angel grove filter in through kim’s open window. there’s the sound of a lawnmower kicking into gear, kids playing street hockey, skateboards flying over cracked pavements. there’s the echoing of bike bells and the sounds of cars driving slowly through the neighborhood, garage doors opening and closing. it’s all so normal. 

a world oblivious to the million year old spaceship buried in a nearby mountain, and just as oblivious to the pain so concentrated in kimberly hart. to those two things in particular, trini is not oblivious to, acutely aware in fact and focusing on the latter with gentle concern. as gentle as she can muster, because for so long trini has been rough edges and kim wasn’t supposed to be the one who started to sanding them smooth -

but here they are.

kim letting out a shuddering breath and then pressing her forehead into trini’s shoulder and just

crying.

silent crying with shaking shoulders and spluttering, muted breaths until finally, finally trini wraps her other arm around kim’s shoulders and just, coaxes kim to let it out. acting on instincts trini honestly didn’t think she possessed, but kim - and the power rangers really - have brought out all kinds of instincts in trini. and there’s the complicated matter of trini’s crush on kim, but right now,

where it’s kim sobbing with a practiced silence into trini’s shoulder, into her chest, and it’s trini, holding her, because this is what she’s here for right? this is what she expected when she decided to confront kim about the too neat rows of scars sitting on her hips.

[it wasn’t. trini expected kim to deny it, to pull at the hem of her shirt and make excuses]

trini hadn’t expected kim to just, collapse like this. as if she’d been waiting for someone to notice all of her pain. all of her loathing. trini tries not to think of all the people who called themselves kim’s friend before, all the people who said they cared and somehow missed

_this,_ hiding just out of sight

later, later, kim mumbling an apology into trini’s neck. kim leaning back and wiping her eyes and saying something about ruining trini’s shirt. trini leaning forward and using gentle, gentle, touches with her thumbs to remove that of kim’s running make up. kim looking at trini and saying, asking “stay over tonight?”

and it’s a friday, so trini says yes.

there’s nowhere else she’d rather be really.


End file.
